Disclaimer: Ouran is not mine.
Summary: Hunny wants. (Mitsukuni/Haruhi)
Author's note: I just had a slip of strawberry bubblegum. It was awful.
Oh, and anyone who catches the allusion to "Nimble Fingers" in the story
gets a free imaginary cookie.
The first sentence Mitsukuni had ever spoken was "I want".
His parents had been delighted and granted him a rare treat in form of a bag of sugar-free bonbons.
From then on, Hunny had always wanted this and wanted that and generally just wanted, wanted, wanted.
And what he wanted, he got.
What he didn't get at first, sweets and cute toys, he had wanted even more from then on and had in abundance later on.
Mitsukuni wasn't subtle in the pursuit of his desires either.
He wailed, he begged, he cried.
Neither was he patient when he wanted.
More often than not he tore gifts open so greedily the contents were damaged and every time he would start to cry, because he knew there always would be replacement.
And as soon as he got, he wanted again.
His parents had been less delighted and at his seventh birthday his mother had approached him with a single present. (The guests' gifts had been given earlier.)
Young Hunny hadn't even taken a look at it before he had buried the paper around the present in the large gift wrap graveyard around him.
"Oh," he could remember himself saying, but not what the present had been. "Thank you, momma." And then he had added: "Where's the rest?"
She had levelled a look at him.
Instantly, he had felt like the one time she had caught him in the kitchens, his hands still on a batch of cookies, and his face full of crumbs.
"Mitsukuni, love," she had said, "I took an hour wrapping your present."
His mother was, for all her virtues, an oddly clumsy woman, completely averse to any physical labour whatsoever, and at that moment he had noticed the band-aids around her fingers. (However she had managed that while wrapping a present.)
"Um," he had mumbled and then tried again with his cutest smile plastered to his face: "I love you, momma?"
She had looked at him, just looked, and once she had opened her mouth as if to say something but in its place shaken her head.
But mostly she had just looked.
At that, something strange and heavy had settled into his stomach and he had distinctively felt there was something he didn't quite get.
In the end, she had settled on whispering: "Happy birthday, love," pressed a soft, wet kiss to his forehead he definitely hadn't wanted and walked off mingling once more with the other guests of his party.
By then the feeling in his stomach had passed again and Mitsukuni hadn't wanted any of this at all, so he had forgotten.
But he remembers, now.
It's a rainy, warm summer day and the Host Club is serving their guests.
There is small talk and sweet talk, laughter and squeals, and best of all in Hunny's opinion, there is cake.
He lets a piece of the sweet treat vanish into the randomly appearing black hole his mouth is around sweets and takes another and another and another and simply doesn't stop and he watches.
Mori takes quick, even strikes off his piece of cake using his fork the same way he uses his sword at kendo and from time to time he would put another piece onto his plate.
Kyouya fills his fork with exactly calculated amounts and takes not one purposefully designed bite too much.
Tamaki doesn't even look at what is put on his plate; he just takes big greedy mouthfuls whenever he pauses for a moment in his exaggerated monologues.
The twins pile piece of cake after piece of cake onto the other twins' plate and don't care whose plate it is they are just eating from.
They all want.
That, Hunny understands.
Then his gaze settles on their newest member.
And he stops understanding.
Haruhi needs time, he knows, to choose just a single piece of cake, even when she could have a piece of each.
When she finally chooses and puts a piece on her plate, there is always a hint of a smile on her lips.
If she would just start eating right then, tearing through folds of whipped-cream and sugar with metal and if only she would want, Hunny would certainly understand.
She never does.
In its place, she just looks and he is reminded of a graveyard of gift wraps.
And after only a short time, really, Haruhi takes a bite.
Watching her eat the cake is nice in a very strange way.
The fork ever so often vanishes between her lips; sometimes he catches sight of a very pink tongue darting forth and back.
And Mitsukuni wants.
Yet, what leaves him so perplexed is not her eating the cake; that he can understand.
What confuses him is the moment right before she takes the bite off the cake.
There, Mitsukuni sees something he himself can only find under the layers of paper around a present given to him.
Haruhi takes another bite, he can see tongue and the softness on her face right before and his fingers itch to tear wrappings.
His stomach gives a lurch and he feels something heavy and strange.
He also doesn't understand at all.
And suddenly without warning, there is a brush of large fingers on his shoulders and he looks up at Takashi.
"I am just hungry," Hunny chirps, gives his friend a pointed look and to the delight of the squealing girls surrounding them, he makes a show of hugging Bun-Bun close and lets them fill his plate with sweets of all kinds.
The heavy feeling passes.
But Hunny can't forget.
He still doesn't understand.
So, he continues to watch.
On some days Haruhi would take only the smallest of nibbles and then stop eating.
"I am saving it for later," she would say, when asked by him, even when there was a whole other cake left.
On other days, she would set her full plate on the table in front of her and start to talk to the girls designing her.
Always her gaze would stray back to the cake and at the look in her eyes he wondered every time if that particular day was her birthday, even though he knew it wasn't.
Then there were days when she would just eat, though every time there would be a pause, a look and he would be left wanting again.
And he wanted, desperately so, he wanted, wanted, wanted.
He just isn't sure what exactly.
Yet, as Mitsukuni isn't patient when he wants, one day not so far away he puts something wrapped in shiny papers into his pockets, gives Takashi another pointed look and goes after
Haruhi when Tamaki basically orders her to make instant coffee.
He catches her in a secluded corner of their clubroom and the coffee machine in front of her is humming quietly.
She is grumbling something along the line of "Rich bastards", but doesn't start when she catches sight of big eyes and pink stuffed something in a corner of her eyes.
"Hunny-sempai?" she asks and turns around to face him, obviously at a loss. "Was there something you wanted?"
Mitsukuni considers for a moment and then bounces up to her, Bun-Bun clutched in one of his hands.
"Look, Haru-chan, look!" he practically sings and thrusts shiny paper up as far as he can reach.
"It's…" Haruhi blinks. "…Chocolate?"
Hunny bobs his head from side to side and Bun-Bun eagerly follows his example. "Nu-uh, it's not just chocolate, it's the creamiest and sweetest and most cavity-worthy chocolate there is!"
Haruhi's face draws a blank and she leans forward to examine the silvery wrapped sweet in Hunny's hands. "Isn't it the same sort we serve in the club anyway?"
"See?" Hunny says as if that would explain everything and begins to wave the bar of chocolate from side to side. "Try a piece!"
Haruhi blinks again and looks from the chocolate to Hunny to Bun-Bun and to Hunny once more.
"I am not hungry," she states bluntly, turns back to the by now finished coffee machine and begins to fill some cups.
Yet, as Hunny is not subtle in the pursuit of his desires, he lets Bun-Bun thud to the floor, steps forwards and tugs at Haruhi's blazer.
"Pretty please? I really, really want you to try one," he begs.
Haruhi fills the last cup and looks down at a childish face and big eyes. "It's that important to you?"
He nods eagerly and the fabrics of her blazer feel like the wrappings of a present to him.
With a sigh Haruhi leans down a bit, so that they are now eye to eye. "And you will leave me in peace after that?"
"Promise!" Hunny practically yells and he really wishes he could start tearing.
"Okay then," she says and much too slowly for his liking Haruhi takes the chocolate from his hands and lets her fingers glide over the silvery paper surface.
Hunny swallows, watches, wants.
With great care her hands uncover the dark sweet from under layers and layers of shiny and silvery paper.
Suddenly Mitsukuni knows with absolute certainty that no present Haruhi had ever received had had to go to the gift wrap graveyard.
They all lived on happily ever after, folded neat and tidy.
However, he hasn't enough time to process this thought, because now Haruhi is pausing, looking, biting, chewing, swallowing.
Dark and heavy settles into Hunny's stomach and he decides he has wanted long enough.
So, he tears wrappings.
Hunny doesn't even take a second look before he catches Haruhi's chin in his right hand.
"Do it again," he demands.
Haruhi blinks for the third time, feels not quite warm fingers on her chin and looks at big eyes and a face that doesn't seem very childish all of a sudden.
"Look like that again," Mitsukuni demands further and wants and tears and unexpectedly he can see the present underneath all the layers of paper. "I want you to look at me like you look at sweets!"
She levels a look at him, not at all like the one she gave the chocolate or the cake or all the other sweets; she just looks.
There is another lurch in his stomach and dark and heavy feels completely different from the time with his mother.
"You want me to look at you like I look at… food?" Haruhi inquires and he notices the chocolate in her hand melting and leaving brown stains on her fingers.
"Yes!" he shouts, looks at his hand holding her chin and unconsciously the fingers of his other hand touch his own face and expect to feel crumbs.
He lets go of Haruhi.
And like he has always done when he knew had tore upon the gift wrap too quickly and damaged the present, Hunny starts to cry, because he knows this time there would be no replacement.
There is a sigh, frustrated and just a bit on the annoyed side, and along with that sound, softness encircles him.
Haruhi hugs Hunny.
"I don't understand," she tells him and rubs his back.
He feels chocolate-stained sticky touches in his hair and looks at her look at him and remembers band-aids on fingers and a pause before biting into cake.
Mitsukuni does understand, now.
"I am sorry, Haru-chan," he snivels into her shoulder, thick tear drops still stuck in his eyes, and hugs back.
"It's okay," she lets his right ear know and presses her lips to his head exactly the same way his mother did.
At that, something heavy and dark and completely new unwraps in his stomach and Mitsukuni has the distinct feeling that there is something Haruhi doesn't quite get.
They let got of each other at the same time.
She gives him a look consisting of not quite sweets and not quite gift wrap and it's just a look.
He doesn't feel quite satisfied.
But she apparently does, because she nods once and gives him a lift of a corner of her mouth.
Hunny tries out smiling back at her and manages a watery grin.
Completely at ease again, Haruhi twists around and encounters cups of coffee by now long since cold with a shrug and a mumble of "If he had wanted warm coffee, he could have made it himself".
Then she walks off, back into the main clubroom, a tray filled with cups of cold instant coffee in her hands.
He sees fingers stained by chocolate Haruhi didn't bother to clean off, sees her tell a wailing Tamaki off and sees her looking at a piece of cake and pausing.
So naturally, the first thing Mitsukuni says to Takashi when he goes back to their table is "I want".
Haruhi, somewhere at his far right, doesn't hear and certainly wouldn't have been delighted.
He hadn't wanted her to hear anyway.
He can wait and be quiet.
Just not too long, because he is neither patient nor subtle in the pursuit of his desires.
And what he wants, he gets.
What he doesn't get at first, looks and kisses unlike the one his mother once gave him, he wants even more now and will try anything to have in abundance later on.